The Hellraiser Drabbles
by LJ1983
Summary: Some drabbles based around scenes and situations of all the Hellraiser movies...
1. Family Reunion

**The Hellraiser Drabbles**

* * *

_Disclaimers__ - I own nothing from the Hellraiser universe, per usual. Rated T to be safe. May be spoilers for those who have not seen all the HR movies._

_A/N__ - Hello. ;) Figured since I am heavily into drabble fics at present I'd do this. It's one that focuses on certain scenes from all of the movies, more or less from the perspective of certain characters. The first drabble here is based on the POV of Kirsty Cotton, thought it'd be cool to start off with this. If you have any requests whatsoever, please review or PM me, I'll see what I can do. :D I hope you all enjoy. Please leave a review, pretty please. ^-^ I know this is a small community, but a little comment wouldn't go amiss. ;) Thanks for reading. ~ Laura_

* * *

1: Family Reunion

With every wall she passed, all the same from one to the other, Kirsty Cotton felt like a thousand years had elapsed with every turn. For what seemed like endless eternity running through one corridor to the other, with every last one appearing the same, Kirsty came face to face with a door...a_ familiar _looking door. Two solid walls framed it, making it look like it had been constructed at the dead end of a long and dark tunnel, but it did appear to be precisely what she was looking for. She thought so anyway.

"The house." she whispered hoarsely, slowly grinning in victory. "My father's house."

She had found her father's Hell, so it seemed. And that pinned one had said she would NEVER find it, let alone her father himself. Puh. Showed how much HE knew!

Without even thinking this through, Kirsty left her blonde mute friend, Tiffany, to keep an eye out for anything that would be a threat, and pushed the seemingly normal-looking door open, and then peered inside. She half expected her beloved father to be sat there waiting for her; dirty, bloody, possibly skinless - amongst whatever Hell he was forced to endure, but nonetheless happy and overjoyed to see her, and anticipating a very much desired hug from his little girl. She had even expected a crude imagining and representation of their home at Lodivico Street, but instead she was greeted by a room decorated with countless lit candles, and had various Gothic structures from which stone slabs slid out from the archway beneath.

Writhing figures lay atop the slabs under a see-through material, with intentions to tease and titillate sexually - obviously the occupant of this particular Hell. Disgusted by the act, but also curious, Kirsty reached for the cover of the nearest slab and quickly snatched it away to reveal who lay beneath. The spirit vanished as soon as her cover came away, forcing Kirsty to grow ever more uneasy. Obviously whoever belonged to this Hell could not engage in sexual acts with the ghost-like women thrashing around under the covers. The slab soon retreated back into the slot in the stone wall, but soon returned, along with the others. This time, the see-through sheets, and the writhing and groaning bodies beneath, were drenched in blood.

There was also a vanity provided, a battered and tired worn out thing with a faded mirror. She smiled to herself wistfully; it reminded her of one that her own mother once owned when Kirsty was so young. There was lipstick, powder, the very same kind her mother used to use. But there was also something else upon this vanity, something which curdled her blood and immediately she was forced into defense mode.

A tattered old photo of someone she'd hope she'd never see again, and the very same message she'd received hours previously, in the hospital room, had been scrawled across the mirror with her mother's own lipstick. Funny, because it hadn't been there before.

Swallowing back burning bile, Kirsty shrank away from the vanity, and Stone Wall of Writhing Whores. A feeling of being stalked and watched swept over her suddenly, and she thought the better of it.

Her instincts hadn't betrayed her, for there gradually melting from the shadows was the subject of her worst nightmare - her perverse and evil Uncle Frank. Her father's murderer.

"What's the matter, Kirsty?" Frank's rasping voice cut through the moaning tempo of the writhing whores. To Kirsty's surprise his body was once again whole, fleshed with his own skin. It was glistened with sweat, and his white vest was caked in filth. He appeared tired, tortured...and murderous. "It's Frank..." He continued on, his voice calm but laced with mock. "...it's only Uncle Frank."

Now Kirsty knew for certain her father hadn't sent the message. Frank's own lips had confessed to the deed. This was all plotted down to every minuscule detail, it was obvious now and Kirsty cursed herself for her desperation; her twisted Uncle was out for revenge...on _her_!

Kirsty was powerless to fight back against the brute strength of her lowly, inhuman uncle as he forcibly hauled her into his arms and slammed her back up against the stone walls outside of the Hell he had lured her to, forcing her to finally look upon his leering face. His greasy hands caked in dirt gripped the sobbing girl's bloodied cheeks with such a powerful force enough to even seriously harm his crying niece, not that he cared.

"Don't be naughty, Kirsty!"

Oh no. All he cared for was satiating his twisted thirst for lust. And she knew that.

"Or I may have to punish you."

Frank's greasy, dirt-caked hand closed over her mouth, muffling her screams. His two remarkably strong arms clamped around her feminine frame, holding her tight. She struggled to breathe and screamed and writhed and kicked about as madly as she could. The brute grabbed a fistful of her corkscrew hair with force, yanked her head back and squeezed her throat to try and silence her. It was partially successful. She ceased squirming and thrashing, but her heaving sobs remained quite loud; loud enough to illicit the unwanted attentions of that ghastly pinned freak and his crew.

"Maybe you'd like that, huh?" He went on, never relinquishing the powerful hold he had about his niece.

Kirsty never doubted for one moment, locked in this despicable man's unwanted embrace, that he had any qualms whatsoever in snuffing her light out permanently. No doubt at all in her mind that he would enjoy inflicting death upon her. Or...even worse, as he had just revealed not so much in words. No, the look on his face was louder than the words which came from his lips, so had been the empty stone sliding audibly from the wall of whores. He'd wanted her to be apart of that horrid collection, to be the thing he could satiate his lusts with.

_Not ever,_ she thought to herself as her fear and stubbornness appeared to melt from her visage only to seem to her Uncle as if she was giving in. But it was not. It was up to her now to save herself from becoming a living plaything in her ghastly Uncle's collection of ghostly whores...

* * *

_Note__ - Hope you enjoyed! Sorry, once again, if that was slightly choppy. Like I said it's meant to be a POV drabble. Hope it was good enough, anyway. Please let me know what you think. ;)_


	2. Encounter With The Past

**Note** _- _I'm back with another moment from one of the HR films. :) Thanks to the four readers who were kind enough to give feedback. I appreciate it very much. I know the first one wasn't much, but it was a start. Now, onto this one, which you may recognize.

As some of you may know, this piece is nothing new. It is recycled from a fic I was writing called 'Exploring Eternity', which I'm not writing anymore and have scrapped, since I just couldn't get it to work. I feel bad about so much of what I'd already written going to waste, so I've decided to re-use some of it in newer upcoming stories. This piece here was from the first chapter of EE, and it demonstrates the meeting between Kirsty and Pinhead in Hellseeker, fourteen years after their second and more memorable meeting during Hellbound. It's fixed up a little, to move away from the differences in the EE story, and more to emulate the moment during the film. You don't have to comment on this one, since you've all pretty much already seen it. XD Sorry if there's any sort of confusion here. It's simply me wanting to recycle is all. Thanks for reading.

* * *

2: Encounter With The Past

_"We have eternity to know your flesh..."_

It had been many years since those very chilling words were spoken to her, fourteen to be precise, such words which roused Kirsty Cotton's almost dead senses, searing through her tough, impenetrable fleshy outer husk and into her very soul, resonating from one voice which always sounded so...inviting so...sensual. Such sensuality that made her skin tingle with the intensity of it.

Now after such a long time, a lifetime torturous in her memory, she stood mere feet away from the very instigator, the one who had uttered that simple if spine chilling statement, whom set her skin alight with the sensual thrill of his words and his very being. The very creature she had purposely sought out. She so very much wished not to feel desire for him, this horrific and mutilated creature in her presence, but she could not help it.

She was drawn to him, this other worldly man before her.

She gazed upon him, trying to anticipate his next move, and in turn his coal eyes swam in the depths of her brown ones. The other dimensional being had a very complicated history with this mere mortal woman, this child with whom had opened the portal to his world not once, not twice...but now thrice! It sat in her hands, entwined in her fingers, as they regarded the other.

To him, Kirsty Cotton had grown much older, much more pliable. Much more beautiful...hauntingly beautiful. Though to her, the demon before Kirsty appeared to have changed very little.

His chalky white cranium was still tattooed in an intricate, bloodless grid, with a single pin inserted into each intersection. His eyes, as always, forever pit-less and dark as the night skies. He still stood a towering six feet tall, and ever proud and fearless.

Tight leather continued to cling to his bulky body - the skin of his chest beneath brutally peeled away and attached to the thick material - revealing bloody pulsing muscle. Rusted old lethal tools still swung at his hips, hanging from a belt which was fixed through his exposed naval. But as always, Kirsty's eyes were ineluctably drawn to the demon's head which was a brutal work of fine art with his halo of pins, and no matter how hard she tried she could not look away.

She was simply captivated by him.

It was the eyes, Kirsty decided, from which attracted and frightened her - along with his calm if commanding inhuman voice, for they emanated a breath taking intensity, a fierce singularity of purpose both admirable and fearsome. All it took was one look, an intense look, and Kirsty felt those coal black orbs burning through right to her very soul. Though essentially read-less Kirsty had bore witness to many different emotions all in the space of a couple of seconds back that fateful day fourteen years ago. Many different emotions; pain, fear, despair, anger. They had all shimmered in those ebony eyes, and all thanks to a single photograph.

A photograph of a man he once knew a lifetime ago. A defiant and handsome looking man, dressed in an army officer's uniform.

_Him!_

He had been human once, and it had come a shock to the both of them, to him especially.

The pained look on his face, the pain swimming in those sad ebony eyes, still continued to haunt her, even after fourteen years. It was somewhat hard to forget. But she also remembered what had come to pass following the rediscovery of his lost humanity, and it played through her fragile mind unceasingly before her very eyes...

He'd given his very life for her...no questions asked, no payment demanded, no bargaining required.

He'd saved her, from the goodness of his heart...his _human_ heart.

With those thoughts in her mind of the good human being he'd once been, Kirsty willed herself to relax in his presence. After all, _she _had been the one to call for him out of her own free will. She'd _wanted _his help, wanted him to _save_ her like he'd done all those years ago.

Yet, she couldn't help but feel deep down, with her instincts screaming at her, this meeting was not going to end well...

* * *

**Note - **Well, like I said, it's nothing much new, but I just wanted to re-use it for something else. I was always proud of what I'd wrote here. Hope you liked. :)


End file.
